


Once Bitten

by Kalkasar (Mordhena)



Series: No Turning Back [2]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, M/M, Miracles, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26401168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar
Summary: Sequel toNo Turning BackAfter the TerranEnterpriseleaves Trip and Malcolm on Zilanth, the pair face one of their greatest challenges since crash landing on the planet more than a year prior.
Relationships: Malcolm Reed/Charles "Trip" Tucker III
Series: No Turning Back [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916815
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Once Bitten

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My eternal gratitude to a writer known as RedHeadHeart who researched the genetics for this fic back in the day.

_I'm not willing to be so open, transparent, no not yet  
Once bitten twice shy is what you get  
(But here in front of you, there's nothin' that I can do.)  
Victoria Beckham (Mind Of It's Own)_

  
  
**Part 1**

  
  
Tucker drew a deep, appreciative breath as he followed Reed into the underground dining room. "It sure smells good," he murmured, giving Reed's hand a light squeeze, he extricated his fingers and rubbed at a spot just near his nose as he moved to sit at the table. "I'm starved," he added, glancing up with a small smile as Reed moved about the room laying the table ready for their meal.  
  
"You work too hard," Reed said. "As always." He set two plates on the table and laid out knives and forks, then turned to fetch a pitcher of cooled fruit juice from the sideboard. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, want a drink while you wait?"  
  
"Sure." Tucker rubbed a finger across the itchy spot next to his nose again and accepted the small metal cup. "Thanks."  
  
"What is that?" Reed's question caught him unawares and Tucker looked up in the middle of sipping his drink.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You keep rubbing at your face, what's the matter?"  
  
"Oh...it's nothin'. Somethin' bit me is all."  
  
"Something bit you?" Reed's brow creased in a frown. "Would you mind being a little more specific? What kind of something, Trip?"  
  
"I dunno, it had a lot of legs, like a spider." Tucker shuddered slightly as he remembered the small creature that scuttled up his arm. It had defied all his attempts to brush it off and crawled onto his face before he managed to slap it to death, inciting a bite in the process. "It jumped out of a hole in somethin' I was workin’ on today." He paused reading the concern in darkening gray-blue eyes. "Relax, Malcolm, you think a little spider bite's gonna bother me that much?"  
  
"We don't know anything about the life forms on this planet, it could be venomous, dangerous to humans...perhaps we should ask the healer to come by..."  
  
"C'mon, Malcolm!" Trip shook his head with a smile at his companion's paranoia. "It happened hours ago and I feel fine!" he rubbed the itchy spot again. "Just put some o'that goop on it that Phlox left. It'll prob’ly be gone by mornin'."  
  
Reed nodded, resigned. "All right. But if it's not, or if you start to feel at all unwell, we will get the healer to take a look at you."  
  
"Okay, Mama Hen." Trip smiled to take the sting from his tone and glanced towards the oven. "Is that meatloaf ready yet?"  
  
Their meal was eaten quietly, each man occupied with his own thoughts and not seeing the need for idle conversation. In the months they had spent on Zilanth, their relationship had settled into familiar, comfortable patterns. Companionable silence was not uncommon. Reed was naturally reticent anyway, and Tucker tended towards thoughtful silence as he reviewed the day's work and made plans for the next day.  
  
Clearing the plates away when the meal was done, Reed took a medical scanner from the sideboard and turned to Tucker. "Time for your therapy," he said, drawing one of the chairs around the table so that he could sit in front of the engineer. He reached for Tucker's right hand and unfastened the leather brace that Tucker wore when he was not working.  
  
"Squeeze my fingers," Reed instructed by force of habit. Both men already knew the routine of the strengthening exercises, but it gave him something to say.  
  
Tucker gripped Reed's hand, applying as much pressure as he could, and noted Reed's slight wince. "They're gettin' better," he remarked. "Hope I didn't hurt ya too much."  
  
Reed smirked, shaking his head and glanced at Tucker. "Again,"  
  
The therapy proceeded through several exercises in dexterity and after an hour, Reed nodded his satisfaction. "Good." He set the scanner aside and began to gently massage the hand, stimulating circulation to the fingers. "You should be able to decrease the time spent wearing the brace soon."  
  
"You know...I never said this before but...I appreciate all this." Tucker met Reed's eyes for an instant and then looked away. "I..." He licked his lips. "The time ya take doin' this every night, it...I..."  
  
"Nonsense." Reed cut in. "It's no trouble at all. I appreciate your company."  
  
There was a brief silence as their eyes met. Tucker smiled slightly and studied Malcolm’s face for a moment before he leaned in and quickly brushed his lips across Reed's mouth. It was a quick, tender and timid kiss and Tucker watched as Reed seemed to freeze for a moment, their eyes locked to each other for an instant as no one spoke.  
  
"Uhm..." Reed passed his tongue quickly across his bottom lip and seemed to fumble for a moment before he quickly strapped the leather brace onto Tucker's fingers. "I'll...get that salve for your face.” He got up hurrying into the next room.  
  
Watching him, Tucker muttered a soft curse. _Nice goin’, Tucker._ _Just go and ruin everythin' why don't ya? Y'gotta know he's not interested in you_. He stared down at his hand despondently, studying every detail of the brace that now supported his fingers. He sighed, reminding himself that Malcolm Reed was in love with Jonathan Archer and that meant that no matter how close he felt to the man when they worked through his nightly therapy sessions, it was nothing more than one human being taking care of by another. _So, get the romantic notions out of ya thick skull and get on with findin' a way to get Malcolm and Jon back together._  
  
"Here we are." Reed, walked into the room carrying a tub of medicinal salve. Removing the lid, he wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I'm glad this is going to be smeared on your face and not mine," he muttered, "It smells like something died in here!"  
  
"Malcolm." Trip looked into the younger man's eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I got...carried away an' Ah...I shouldna done that."  
  
"It's all right," Reed said. "No one was hurt after all." He dipped his fingers into the evil smelling gel. "Come a little closer, would you? I don't want to splatter this witchery all over the floor."  
  


  
  
  
**Part 2**

  
  
Tucker woke slowly the following morning, rolling onto his back with a soft moan. He felt stiff and sore all over, as though he'd slept in an awkward position. He forced his eyes open, reaching for the leather patch to cover his damaged eye. He sat up to adjust it and winced with a small grunt of pain as his fingers brushed against the site where the spider had bitten him.  
  
Stumbling to his feet, he made his way to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. The bite had developed into a small blister surrounded by an angry looking, purplish ring. Tucker gently probed it with a finger and hissed out a breath at the resulting stab of pain. _Dammit, he thought. As if it ain't bad enough that I look a wreck with this eye patch, now I gotta get a zit!_  
  
Tucker splashed the place with a little cool water to try and ease the pain before he moved through to the sleeping area again. Reaching for a bathrobe he slipped it on and went out into the main living area.  
  
Reed sat at the table drinking a mug of the liquid that passed for tea on Zilanth. He glanced up as Trip shuffled into the room. His eyes displayed instant concern as he took in the engineer’s appearance.  
  


Reed was in front of Tucker in an instant. "That looks nasty." He placed his fingers to Tucker's chin and slightly angled the man's head so he could examine the spot in the light that filtered through a skylight over the table.  
  
"It's just a spot," Tucker protested, pulling away from the contact. He didn't trust himself to allow such an intimate touch for too long. "It's a little sore."  
  
"Spot?" Reed's tone was incredulous. "It's a blister, obviously a reaction to the spider venom." He paused. "How do you feel?"  
  
"A li’l achey," Tucker admitted. He eased himself down onto a chair, "Is there any coffee?"  
  
"Yes." Reed moved to pour Trip a cup and returned to hand it to him, keeping hold of it until he was sure that the engineer had grasped the cup firmly.  
  
Seating himself opposite Tucker, Reed leveled a stern look at the blond man. "Right, you're going to see the healer. You gave me your word that you would if you were not feeling well this morning."  
  
Tucker nodded, sipping the hot liquid in his cup. "I'll go on my way to work," a quick glance at Reed's face and he smiled. "On my word. I think I’ll need somethin' for pain."  
  
"Is it that bad?" Reed stood and fetched the medical scanner from its place on the shelf. He pressed a button to activate the device and scanned Trip. He frowned at the readings. "You're running a slight temp.” Looking up, his eyes clouded with concern, and he touched Tucker's neck, running his fingers over the skin. "You're also developing a rash," His fingers trailed down to the opening at the front of Tucker's bathrobe, his eyes following the trail of small red spots.  
  
"Malcolm..." Tucker gently caught the dark-haired man's hand and pushed it away from his skin. Even though he was feeling increasingly miserable, the contact of those gentle fingers was unsettling to say the least.  
  
Dark grey-blue eyes blinked a couple of times as Reed seemed to puzzle over Tucker's reaction for a moment and then comprehension dawned. "Ah...sorry," he murmured and stood up.  
  
Tucker was almost sorry when Reed moved away to stow the scanner back in its customary place.  
  
"I don't think you should go to work today," Reed said firmly. "Perhaps you'd be better off to go back to bed?"  
  
Tucker shook his head. "I'm all right, Malcolm," he said. "I want to go to work...I already said I'll see the healer." He set his coffee cup down and labored to his feet. "I'll take it easy." He heard an exasperated sigh from behind him as he made his way towards the bathroom, but Reed made no attempt to stop him.  
  
Tucker discarded the bathrobe as he attained the privacy of his bedroom. He grimaced at the memory of gentle fingers trailing over his skin, coming to rest on his chest. He headed for the shower. He needed to get a hold of his emotions and regain some equilibrium, and more than that, he needed to get away from Malcolm Reed for a few hours. The memory of Reed's lips when Tucker had kissed him, however briefly the previous night was still a sharp torment, and he needed time to get things back in perspective.

  
  
  
  
**Part 3**   
  


  
  
  
As the late afternoon stretched into evening, Malcolm began to worry in earnest about Tucker. The engineer had never returned later than sundown. With the lack of his injured eye, he couldn’t see well after dark.  
  
Reed sighed, pacing to and fro outside the entrance to their home. Part of him urged that he should go and look for Tucker. Yet another warned him that it may be a mistake. One of the things he had always endeavored to do was to allow Tucker to keep his independence as much as possible.  
  
Reed peered into the gathering twilight, unconsciously shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he wrestled with the question. Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Reed set off in the direction of the Tucker's workshop. The engineer's condition when he'd left had not been good, if he had worsened throughout the day, then… Malcolm muttered a curse and lengthened his stried into a lope as sudden panic caught at him.  
  
"Trip?" Reed half ran into the workshop, looking around frantically for the engineer, his mind flitting back to the day he had first entered this subterranean room. He swallowed hard. Tucker was not in the workshop. "Trip!" He rushed into the adjoining room and halted with a gasp as his senses were assaulted by the sour smell of illness. He stared at the man who lay, sweating and shivering on the small bed. "Oh God…"  
  
Tucker lay on his side, his hair dampened with sweat and plastered to his head. His clothes were soaked with a combination of perspiration and vomit. He didn't respond to Malcolm's voice. The tremors that shook him were so violent that Reed could hear the chattering of his teeth from where he stood by the door.  
  
"Trip…" Reed moved to the side of the bed and put a hand on the man's brow. His skin felt on fire. Malcolm smoothed the damp hair back from Tucker's forehead. "Trip, can you hear me?"  
  
"Cap'n?" Tucker stirred and tried to open his eyes.  
  
"It's Malcolm, Trip…"  
  
"Malcolm? What're you doin' here? The Cap'n told ya to stay on the ship…you're violatin' orders, l’tenant."  
  
"I'm sorry, Sir. It was…necessary." Malcolm shook his head, gnawing at his lower lip. _I should never have let you out of my sight!_ He gathered the engineer into his arms and lifted him. "Let's get you out of here."  
  
Tucker struggled a little. "Cold…" he said with a shudder. "D'you think they'll get to us… before the air runs out?"  
  
Malcolm didn't reply as he focused all his attention on carrying the engineer. Tucker was heavy, a dead weight, but Reed wanted to get him back to their own dwelling where he was better placed to get him clean clothes and water. The muscles in his arms were already screaming in protest but he blocked out the pain and began to walk with dogged determination.

  
  
  
  
**Part 4**

  
  
His world was pain. The terrible cold had eased a little, but throbbing agony coursed through him if he moved so much as an eyelash. He groaned as he came to full consciousness and passed his tongue across parched lips.  
  
Gentle hands touched him, raising him a little and eliciting another small groan of pain from him.  
  
"Here, drink this," a soft, accented voice commanded and a cool metallic object was pressed against his lips. He sipped and swallowed, sweet, cool water. He tried to take more but the cup was removed. "That's enough for now. I don't want you to bring it back."  
  
He was settled back against the pillows and he forced his eyes open. "What…what happened?"  
  
"You're going to be all right," Someone moved beside the bed and Tucker struggled to focus his blurred vision on the speaker.

"Malcolm?"  
  
"You recognize me…That's an improvement."  
  
Looking around the room, Tucker realized he was back in their home and he shifted a little in the bed. "How did I get back here? I don't remember walkin' home."  
  
"You didn't, I… carried you." Reed reached for a medical scanner and ran it over Tucker. "I managed to bring your temperature down somewhat, and I've given you something for the pain, but…" he frowned and shook his head. "There isn't much else Shondré or I can do…"  
  
"Shondré…" Tucker recognized the name of the chief healer. "She came here?"  
  
"Yes." Malcolm set the scanner aside and gently wiped Tucker's face with a cool cloth.  
  
"My head hurts like hell," Tucker noted and closed his eyes with a small sigh.  
  
"You should rest…" Malcolm adjusted the covers over the engineer's body and lowered the light from the lamp at the bedside.  
  
"Sleep sounds nice." Tucker drifted into a fitful rest.  
  
Reed sat by Tucker's bed a few moments longer, watching as the blond man slept. It was a relief to see him resting quietly. A stark contrast to the previous few hours.  
  
Wracked by fever and lost in delirium, Trip had tossed and raved on the bed, fighting Reed as he struggled to get him out of his sweat and vomit stained clothing.  
  
Malcolm slumped down into a chair in the living area and passed a hand over his face. He was weary, and hungry, but the need for rest outweighed his stomach's demands for food for the moment. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the cushioned head rest.  
  
After a battle to get Tucker bathed and dressed in clean clothing, he had put through a call for the healer and was relieved when the reptilian female arrived. Shondré had examined Tucker, confirming the analysis Reed's own tricorder had given him.  
  
"I don't understand thiss," she said. "The arachnid Tucker described does not usually cause thiss type of reaction, not even when other off worlderss are bitten. It is a harmless cave sspider that iss very common on our world."  
  
"Humans are susceptible to a number of arachnid venoms on our planet," Reed said. "The venom of this spider must be similar." He frowned. "I don't suppose you have an antivenin?"  
  
Shondré shook her head, obviously not comprehending. "I have never heard thiss word," she said. "Ant…venin?"  
  
"A counter agent," Reed explained. "Something to offset the effects of the poison."  
  
"Ah." Shondré nodded as she grasped the meaning of his words, but then shrugged. "It hass never been needed. Our people are not vulnerable to inssect bitess. The besst we can hope to do, is keep Tucker comfortable until the effect of the bite wearss off."  
  
Reed sighed softly and got to his feet. Now that Tucker was resting, he planned to search the medical database that Phlox had left with them when the Terran _Enterprise_ departed. Perhaps there would be something in there he could use to help his friend.  
  
  
  


* * *

**  
**  
  
Reed wakened several hours later, disoriented. Every nerve jumped, typical of being wakened suddenly from a deep sleep. He rubbed his eyes, sitting up as cramped muscles complained about the fact that he had fallen asleep hunched over a computer console.  
  
The complaints of his own body were pushed aside when a loud, shuddering cry emanated from Tucker's bedroom. Reed was on his feet in an instant and bolting for the room.  
  
"My eyes!" Tucker cried as Malcolm burst into the room. The engineer writhed on the bed, hands clamped tightly against his eyes as he sobbed and moaned in pain. "Help me!"  
  
"Trip!" Malcolm moved to the bedside, quickly grabbing the medical tricorder and turning it on. "I'm here, what's the matter?"  
  
Tucker didn't appear to hear him.  
  
Reed scanned the engineer and stared at the screen of the tricorder helplessly, he couldn't make any sense of the readings. Saving them, he set the device aside to show to Shondré, perhaps she would know what it meant. He leaned over the bed and caught hold of Tucker's shoulders. "Trip! Tell me what's wrong? What can I do?"  
  
"My eyes!" Tucker insisted. "Hurts!" He choked on a sob and tried to twist away from Reed's grasp. "Oh God… Make it stop!"  
  
"Trip!" Maclolm gripped the engineer's wrists, trying to prize the man's hands away from his eyes. "Please, you've got to settle down, you're going to hurt yourself!"  
  
"Shondré!" Tucker cried, fighting with the strength of a man possessed. "Call Shondré!"  
  
"I can't call her until you relax, Trip…" Reed's voice was edged with desperation as he fought to pull the clawing fingers away from Tucker's eyes. With a shake of his head, he put all the command tone he could muster into his voice. "Commander Tucker, stand down!"  
  
The words reached Tucker on some instinctual level and he immediately allowed Reed to pull his hands away from his eyes. Reed sighed, shaken, but glad that Trip had heeded his training. Military, navy, or Starfleet, every officer was conditioned to respond to a direct order. Reed could only breathe a prayer of thanks that it had worked in this instance. He let go Tucker's wrists. Trip was obviously still in agony but controlling himself by the force of an iron will. "I'll call Shondré.” Malcolm headed into the living area, He didn't like leaving his friend alone, but he had no choice, the comms unit was in the living room.  
  
He was brought up short when he found Shondré standing just inside the door.  
  
"There iss no need," the healer said. "I knew he needed me."  
  
"Well, I don't know how you knew, but I'm glad." Reed felt the relief wash over him as he gestured towards the trembling, sweating man on the bed. "Please…do something for him."

  
  
  
  
**Part 5**

  
  
  
"Tucker speakss with hiss mind." Shondré made her way to Tucker's bedside as she spoke. Her tone matter-of-fact, as though her statement was nothing out of the ordinary. "Healerss are receptive to thiss."  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Reed glanced at Tucker and then returned his gaze to the healer who had perched herself on the edge of the bed and rested one paw on the engineer's chest. Tucker seemed to still immediately as the reptilian female examined him, absently reaching for the medical scanner and reading the saved results. Shondré's pupils narrowed, and she glanced up at Reed. "Do you undersstand what thiss meanss?"  
  
"No. I was hoping that you…"  
  
"Hm!" Shondré bent over her patient again, Reed seemingly forgotten as she pressed a paw to the blond man's temple, closing her eyes, she muttered to herself in a sibilant undertone.  
  
"He hass had a child?" The question was directed at Reed, but her posture didn't change.  
  
"He was pregnant, but the child was transferred to another."  
  
"Yess." Shondré nodded. "Ssingular... Mosst ssingular."  
  
Reed gulped as a shiver ran through him at the word, 'singular;' he passed his tongue over his lips and took a half step away from the healer as a vague sense of unease overcame him. He frowned, shook himself. "What is?" He pushed his uneasy feeling to the back of his mind. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"  
  
"He hass developed a ssecondary infection," the healer said, and then she held up the medical scanner, "There are complicationss."  
  
"What complications!" Reed felt the mounting exasperation and bit down hard on the stream of words that threatened to spill over. "Please…tell me what's going on!"  
  
Shondré nodded. Maintaining the contact with her patient that somehow dulled Tucker's pain, she sighed. "Thiss iss a very complex problem, Reed. I am not ssure if I can make it comprehensible to you."  
  
Malcolm gritted his teeth, patience wearing thin. "Just…tell me," he drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I am not unfamiliar with technical concepts." He stopped short of listing his qualifications. "If there's anything I don't understand, I will ask for clarification!"  
  
"Very well." Shondré turned to Tucker for a moment, and touched his temple again, murmuring the Zilanthi word for 'rest' before she looked to Reed. "To begin…" She waved Reed to a chair. "Thiss may take ssome time, Reed." Once he was seated, the healer went on.  
  
"Tucker carried hiss child long enough for the embryo to establish itss own cellss within hiss bloodsstream."  
  
"What?" Malcolm glanced from the healer to the man on the bed in alarm. "Is that…"  
  
"It iss normal," Shondré said, "Every live bearing female - males alsso it would sseem, carriess ssuch cells from the offspring for a long time, perhapss a lifetime. But - Tucker'ss child is not of your sspeciess."  
  
"True. The commander was lied to and unwittingly impregnated by a species that seems to be able to leave its children in a male of any other species. It was fortunate that we found their ship in time to return the child to them."  
  
Shondré nodded and glanced at her patient who still lay quietly under her telepathic  
Influence. "But thiss pregnancy left him with something which may be a blessing, or a cursse I am unable to determine which ass yet."  
  
Reed met the healer's eyes, his own gaze clouded with the rising alarm that he knew threatened to become full-blown panic. "What?"  
  
"Every life-form carriess in its cellss, tiny bitss of information…"  
  
"Genes," Reed supplied.  
  
"Yess. There are a few of these 'geness' which control development in the embryonic stagess. A life form iss born with all its organs in the correct place because of these geness."  
  
"HOX, or homeobox genes," Reed said, recalling the name from biology classes in his school days. "I think that is what you're referring to? They control the location of bodily structures, among other things…like a blueprint."  
  
Shondré smiled and nodded. "Exactly."  
  
"All right, I follow you, but what has this to do with Commander Tucker's illness?"  
  
"Tucker iss very ill, Reed. I could cure the ssecondary infection, it iss a common pathogen to my people, however, there is a grave complication."  
  
"What? Tell me," Without thinking, Reed was on his feet, face to face with the healer, leaning over her. He put his hands on her shoulders, studying her face intently. "Is he going to die?"  
  
Shondré drew in a deep breath and shook her head. "That may depend on you, Reed."  
  
"On me? How…you need permission for something? YES! Save him, whatever you have to do, save him!"  
  
"It iss not sso simple," the healer said. "Your HOX genes are turned off, as iss normal. Until the spider bite, Tucker's were alsso." Shondré paced to and fro as she spoke, occasionally glancing at her patient. "The bacteria causing the infection have somehow acted upon the alien cellss in Tucker's bloodstream like…a catalyst I think iss your word for it…"  
  
"Doctor! What is happening to Commander Tucker? NOW!" Reed restrained the urge to shake her, briefly wondering if all doctors everywhere had this fascination for the dramatic; he could imagine Phlox drawing out this explanation in the same way.  
  
"Tucker'ss HOX genes have been reactivated, as far as I can tell in only two partss of his body. His hand is being repaired of the original damage and the later ssurgery. The atrophy you have worked sso diligently to overcome iss a mechanical defect and remains untouched. But that iss the leasst of it. The retina of his damaged eye iss… repairing itself also. A fine new blood supply iss forming, along with the nerve endingss he requires in order to receive signals to a strong, healthy optic nerve."  
  
"You're telling me that Trip's going to see again out of that eye? Good lord, Doctor! That's hardly bad news, is it? I don't care how it happens, that's the most wonderful news I've had since we came to this time forgotten planet!" Reed took a half step towards the bed, his wonderment clear on his features as he allowed the usual reserved façade slip. "He's going to see again?"  
  
"Pleasse allow me to finish." The healer's tone brought him up short and Reed turned to look at her, his elation quickly dissipating as he noted her grim expression.  
  
"Tucker'ss eye iss at least, partially reforming the retina. Since there is already a uselesss one in place, I have no idea how much, if any usable vision your partner will have at the end of what he must face."  
  
Reed frowned at her use of the word partner, but he let it pass in light of the ominous question behind her words. "What he must face?"  
  
"Yess," another deep sigh from the reptilian female, and this one seemed to carry the weight of their adopted world on its shoulders.  
  
As his knees buckled under him, Reed sank down on his chair, watching her. "What…"  
  
"Whilst the damaged retina iss at least, partially regrowing, the nerves of the other eye have become seriously inflamed. The nerves in thiss area are closely interrelated. They react sympathetically with each other. It iss how the eyes can focuss on two sets of information, yet translate it into one cohesive whole…Because of the sympathetic reaction, the regrowth iss not occurring fast enough to prevent blindness in both eyes if we do not treat the bacterial infection now."  
  
"Then there is no question, doctor, you must treat him for pity's sake! Why even ask me?"  
  
"If I treat him now, the infection will end quickly. Unfortunately, so will the catalytic reaction. Tucker will be left permanently, totally blind."  
  
Reed groaned and dropped his head into his hands, suddenly tired and feeling more hopeless than he had in all the time since they crash landed on this world. "Nothing, no light, no shadow. Nothing can be saved?"  
  
"I am ssorry, Reed."  
  
"In that case, you can't treat him…if there is even a sliver of hope that he will have some sight… You can't…a blind engineer…it would kill him, Doctor."  
  
"And withholding treatment will almost certainly cost him hiss life. This infection is like your Pneumonia. There iss also one other thing to consider."  
  
"What more could there be?" Reed raised reddened eyes to her face. "How could this be any bloody worse?"  
  
"Regrowing the retina, surviving the sympathetic inflammation. Both will be agony beyond which I cannot tell if Tucker hass endured before. Your speciess is resilient, but I do not know if Tucker can withstand thiss. Even if I can somehow keep him alive through the course of the infection, he may still succumb to shock, and die from the pain." Shondré glanced at Tucker, and then returned her gaze to Reed's face. "He iss not capable of making this decision himself. You must decide for him. Would Tucker adjust, should he lose his vision completely? You are the first humanss I have treated. I know little of your psychology beyond what I have observed of hiss strength in surviving the original injuries."  
  
"How long would this process take?"  
  
"I estimate three days. Although I have never actually seen a case in which three alien biologies synergize and catalyze each other to such a bizarre end."  
  
Reed nodded. "Do it."  
  
"You must know, that thiss infection untreated and in his current state, will in all likelihood, kill him within two."  
  
"Hobson's choice…" Reed muttered. "Damned if I do, and damned if I don't." He fell silent, completely unable to process the situation any longer and began to grasp at straws. "Can't you sedate him? Whatever you've done now, seems to work… he's resting, quiet…why can't you continue to do that?"  
  
"I have applied a light telepathic restraint to him," Shondré replied. "Thiss works because he iss receptive on some level to telepathic influence. However, he iss not strong enough to cope with constant telepathic activity. On top of everything else, the strain on hiss mind may send him further into shock or cause irreparable neurological damage. No, Reed the risk iss too great to him."  
  
"What about the drugs Phlox left? We know they are safe for humans!"  
  
"And every one of them would slow his metabolism to the point where the reaction will be impaired, perhaps ceasing entirely. We musst allow the process to continue as uninterrupted as possible."  
  
Reed could sit still no longer. He got to his feet, pacing the length of the small room. "You're telling me that you can cure him, but he'll be helpless for the rest of his life. Unable to work, unable to see, unable to read, or even walk across a bloody room without someone's aid? What kind of a life is that for him? His work is his life, Shondré! His engines…I can't be responsible for him losing that forever!"  
  
"So you choose not to treat him, Reed?"  
  
"How can I choose that either?" Reed's tone was becoming frantic. "You treat him, and he has the rest of his life to hate me for deliberately blinding him! Fail to treat him and he most likely dies when his heart or lungs give out from infection or shock! What kind of bloody choice is that to ask one human being to make for another? I don't know what he would choose! What if I decide and I am wrong? A life without his eyes or no life at all after enduring the torment of the damned?"  
  
By now his pacing was taking on the aspect of flight. Finally, he stopped and his shoulders drooped in defeat. "Treat him. Give him the medicine. God help me, I can't lose the only person I have left from my world to a bloody spider bite!"  
  
  


He hated himself for the choice he made, even as the words passed his lips and yet there was a part of him that could not bear the thought of losing Tucker, the only other human being on this planet, and the only other being in this entire universe with whom he shared, not only a common destiny but a common past. Tucker was the only other being anywhere that really knew him. To lose that, Reed knew would be to lose a part of himself that he could never hope to regain.  
  
A selfish choice? Reed shook his head. Perhaps it was selfish. All Reed knew was that he could not survive this world, this universe alone. With a deep shuddering sigh, he turned to look at Tucker who stirred slightly as the effects of whatever the healer had done began to wear off.  
  
Tucker slowly rolled his head from side to side, groaning as the lines of pain re-etched themselves onto his face. He sobbed and spoke almost in an undertone. "Gonna get us out of here, Malcolm. Gonna get through this. I'll get well, I'll get my hand workin' again and we…we'll get home…back to Starfleet…back to my engines…If I die tryin' I'll get us back, Mal…I promise ya."  
  
Reed shuddered at those words, the grim determination and force with which they were spoken in spite of the pain he knew Tucker must be in. He looked at Shondré. "To do that, he will need to see…he will need both eyes and a fully working hand…" Reed bit his lip in thought. "I…can't deny him that chance, Doctor." He swallowed hard. "Tell me what I can do to help him through this?"  
  
Shondré got to her feet slowly, watching Tucker with eyes that shone with some indefinable emotion. After a moment, she turned to Reed.  
  
"He iss going to suffer great agony." She laid a hand on his arm as she spoke and leaned closer, her eyes locked with his. "You have sseen already what it iss like for him. He will try to stop the pain in any manner he can find. I suggest that before he becomess uncontrollable, we restrain him, Reed. It will be better that way."  
  
Reed swallowed past a lump in his throat and nodded slightly. "All right," he said simply. He glanced towards Tucker who was becoming increasingly agitated as his mind returned to consciousness and pain. "All right."

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Part 6**   
  


  
Malcolm awoke in Tucker's darkened bedroom. He couldn’t recall the date or time of day and was too exhausted to care. When had he switched to the big rocking chair? Oh, the second night, he did remember that much. The one during which Trip had alternated between coughing up things Malcolm fervently desired never again to be anywhere near and endlessly calling for the unborn daughter he had never held, even in fevered dreams.  
  
At least he was quiet now. He must've screamed himself unconscious again. Probably time to start more hand exercises. Reed had kept himself sane by continuing the stretching routines. If Tucker survived - _when Tucker survived_ \- it would not be with further atrophy of the hand to overcome even if the underlying neurological damage could somehow be remedied by those temporarily confused HOX genes in his fingers. Malcolm couldn't remember the last time Tucker had been this quiet for more than a very few minutes.  
  
  
 _Too_ quiet, he realized with a horrible start, launching himself with the last of his strength toward the bed even before he realized Tucker was completely still on it, face peaceful, chest unmoving. Please, God, no! I thought you'd let me keep him! All that suffering for naught, all the loneliness to come -  
  
  
"HACCHHHHHH!!!"

Malcolm had just time enough to grab the enameled pan which had served him so well, before the 'corpse' let fly with something decidedly less near sentient than he had the last time he cleared his clogged windpipe. _No more blood!_ Reed exulted as he wiped the stubbled face clean once again, grateful for the medicine he'd received to prevent his contracting Tucker's lung infection.  
  
Even Tucker's breath was improved, no less fetid to Reed's by-now-bludgeoned sensibilities - he was only now, when he would probably never see her again, fully cognizant of T'Pol's fortitude in enduring the limits of human stench - but now that same breath was being taken in and let out with ease and steadiness approaching normal. The agonal rales of Malcolm's recent memory were replaced by _snoring._ Loud, beautiful, Tuckerish snoring.  
  
The medical scanner confirmed his assessment. "He's SLEEPING! God, thank you! It's just _sleep!_ And his temperature is nearly normal!" He realized he was speaking out loud, as he had done almost continually to the dying man for the past three nights and two days, when the snores were truncated by an exasperated snort.  
  
  
"He _was_ sleepin'! Son-of-a- _bitch_ , do ya have to make so much damn noise? Mah head feels like I got one a' yer phase cannons goin' off in it! What th' HELL was I _drinkin'_ last night, anyway?"  
  
Those hoarse complaints, a bit slurred from exhaustion, were the sweetest sounds Malcolm had had the pleasure to hear since the shuttle crash eighteen months earlier.

Trip struggled against his bonds with annoyance instead of mindless agony.

"Trip! Are you in pain? Are you alright?" He had to be sure before he freed him.  
  
"Of _course_ I'm alright! Get me the hell outta this, Malcolm! _Damn_ , we finally did it! Never figured y' fer a restraints-on-th'-first-date kinda guy. Hope you had fun - hope _I_ had fun, 'cause Ah don' remember one damn thing. An' I need to go to the bathroom! _Right now_!"  
  
"Malcolm!" Tucker's speech became louder and faster as need overrode headache, "Whatever th' safe word is, I don' remember it, but it's "phase cannons" if I know you, an' if you don' git me outta these bonds, Ah'm gonna do somethin' to these nice soft sheets Ah haven' done since before Ah could read, and you’re cleanin’ it up!"  
  
“You’re delirious, Commander.” Malcolm said. Half delirious himself with relief, he unfastened restraints around Tucker's chest and reached for the the carefully padded circlets around Tucker's wrists, placed at Shondré's suggestion so he could be pushed to a sitting position when the coughing or vomiting resumed. Malcolm's attempted levity trailed off, lost for words, surprised that he had started to joke about anything after the last three days, and suddenly greatly heartened that Tucker, after all that had happened to him in those same three days, was already showing his normal good humor.  
  
"Oh, Malcolm, NOW!"  
  
"No time - can you use a bed pan?" He just hoped he wasn't asking Tucker a "poop question," as the man had so eloquently coined that phrase to the crew's great mirth.  
  
"ANYTHING!"  
  


“All right, keep your shirt on, Commander.” Malcolm was surprised at how natural caring for Tucker's intimate needs had become after only three days of hell. When Trip was done, he leaned closer to Tucker's face. "I'm untying you now, only take a minute longer."  
  
"Malcolm, just take the damn blindfold off. Can't see a thing!"  
  
  
Those words struck terror in Reed's heart. _Oh, God, help me_ , he thought wildly. What if it's all been for nothing after all? He looked up to see Shondré standing quietly next to him. "He called me," the healer answered Malcolm's expression.  
  
  
"Even completely back in thiss world, hiss mind is more powerful than you would think. This must be investigated, Reed. Most singular." She bent over her recovering patient.

  
"How are you, Tucker?" Her paw stroked his cheek gently and he became still. "You've been very ill. Do you remember? Reed has taken most excellent care of you for nearly three dayss. You would have died without it. Do you remember?" Her steady speech covered the quick physical inspection. His nearly clear lungs, fading rash and healing spider-bite blister told her his body was well on its way back.  
  
"Th' spider bite. Shondré, this ain't no fun-time blindfold, is it? I'm startin' t' remember. Malcolm, Ah'm so sorry I said what I did. Sick, felt like pneumonia comin' on. You leaned over th' bed in mah workshop,"  
  
"An infection set in, easily curable but for something unique to your body. It’s complicated matters. You were dying, and Reed had to make a choice for your treatment."  
  
"What complication? What happened to me?"  
  
"Doctor, do something!" Reed feared a full-blown panic when they told Trip he’d lost both eyes.  
  
Shondré placed a paw on each of her patient's shoulders. "Tucker, lissten calmly."  
  
  
"I don' know about that! Think it's my eyes, Shondré. What happened to my eyes? Malcolm, they've gotta be bandages, right? Am I blind? Is that it? Did the other  
one go, too, Malcolm? TELL ME!" He fairly shrieked the last as Reed finished untying  
the rope at Shondré's emphatic gesture, newly freed hands flying to his bandages.  
  
  
"Stop, Tucker, we do not know and we will find out together and face it." His hands immediately stilled their wild clawing as her paws rested against them. "Now, you will tightly closse both eyess, we will dim the lights even further and I will remove one side at a time. Reed?"

He had already moved to the lantern, ensuring even less light reached the bed.

"Good. Now, Tucker, there iss no reason to think the worst until we musst; let us determine what iss truly happening." She undermined the covering on the good eye, lifting it gently as she advised him again to keep both eyes tightly closed.  
  
  
"Now, Tucker, open the eye _very_ slowly. The light is low so do not be afraid of the darknesss."  
  
"Malcolm, come here! Want to see you first!” Trip carefully opened his eye, seeking Malcolm, staring for a long moment. “Y'look like someone chased ya through Grandma's root cellar fer three days. What happened?"  
  
"You did, Trip. I nearly lost you," Malcolm choked out.  
  
"Oh, y' look so tired! But I c'n _see_ you!" Reed was captivated by the joyous grin. It warmed his entire existence with the glow of light and promise. No matter what, he knew Tucker would not, as he had dreaded and cursed himself for repeatedly, be blind.  
  
"Ok, Malcolm, how d'I look?" Reed thought carefully, and then decided the truth was as good as anything to a man who would easily detect platitudes and worry about them. "Wild haired, rash-ridden, scabby-faced, skin and bones and semi-demented. The only thing you need is one of those god-awful floral shirts and we'd all run screaming into the night. Or day, whichever it happens to be at this moment."  
  
"Well, thank you, Malcolm!" For some completely unfathomable reason, which he had been counting on when he opened his mouth, Reed's insults seemed to be a source of great pride to the recovering man. He'd never understand Yanks.

  
"Excellent," Shondré pronounced after replacing the bandage under protest. "Now the other side."  
  
"Uh, Shondré, that eye hasn't worked in way over a year, remember?" Tucker was genuinely confused, and Reed's breath caught as he realized another moment he'd been dreading was at hand.  
  
"Close your eyess. A thorough examination needs to _be_ thorough," she said with a gentleness in her voice that immediately placated Tucker and made Reed wonder how much of their communication was going on telepathically. He couldn't follow it but, grateful anyway, turned to watch her remove the bandage on the other side.  
  
"Open the eye very slowly, Tucker. Tell me if all is as usual."  
  
"Uh, yeah. Just the same," he replied in a completely normal tone.  
  
The breath left Reed's lungs as if he had been punched. Whatever the Xyrillian woman and Zilanthian spider had left inside Tucker's body to fight that desperate battle had obviously failed - the eye was still completely nonfunctional.  
  
Trip would find a way to return them to their proper universe, of that Malcolm Reed had no doubt. But it would be a universe without Tucker's greatest joy, without the one thing he craved above all other.  
  
Without that eye, it would be a universe without Starfleet.  
  
"Reed!" Shondré's voice broke through his sorrow. "Help Tucker to the bathroom."  
  
"Do you think he can? He's been..."  
  
"Malcolm!" Trip said urgently.  
  
"Help him up quickly." The reptilian female stepped back to allow them room. Malcolm’s fears that Tucker would fall after several days in bed were unfounded as they made their way to the bathroom in near-record time.  
  
When his companion was safely enthroned, Malcolm answered Shondré's call. "He's fine. I'll stay and make sure he doesn't fall," he said airily, ignoring Tucker's blushing protest. "That was for the doctor's benefit,” he said. “Otherwise, you might have her in here too."  
  
"Awww, Malcolm, I'm sorry you had to get me here."  
  
"Tch, any military officer has been around far worse. Just who do you think kept you tidy, anyway, Mr. Tucker?"  
  
"Mr. Tucker? Now I know ah've been sick," he chuckled. "Tidy, huh. Why do I think that doesn't even begin to tell th' story?"  
  
Reed sighed. "Because it doesn't. I have never seen someone so violently ill in my life, said military career included. I was sure you were going to die, and I would be bereft of my only friend."  
  
"Malcolm, you need to make more friends th' way I have. I'll do mah level best to get us back, but let's face it, we might never be lucky that way. Th' Zilanthi're good people, we were damn fortunate. We were damn fortunate in everything. I wound up with them, and you wound up in some house where you were a servant, y' said? Then y' found yer way to th' Terrans an' back t' me. What were the odds of all that?"  
  
He'd never exactly _lied_ to Tucker about his place in the Consulate, about why he still stumbled over the occasional word, just never quite spelled it out. Perhaps someday he'd be required to go there again in his mind, but not while it was still so fresh and raw. Thankfully, there would now be time for that later.  
  
Trip, after having insisted on stopping to brush his teeth, was quickly back in bed. This time Malcolm's so his could be aired and changed. A small cup of warm soup and some bread waited for him on the night table, with a quick explanation of what had gone on in his body as he ate it, including the news he took much better than Reed would have expected, the news of the failed regrowth for which the torment had been endured.  
  
"How do you feel, Tucker?" Shondré had a peculiar expression. Tucker with his year's head start had always been much better at reading Zilanthi faces than Malcolm had, though not for lack of trying.  
  
Tucker looked around. He was finally lying in Malcolm Reed's bed, and he just wished it meant something besides airing out his own. "Much better."  
  
"Good. I am ssorry for the pain, Tucker."  
  
"I don't remember any pain, Shondré - don' be sorry. That's -"

Reed gasped in breath as he saw her paws coming up to the blond head and realized what was going to happen.  
  
" - OWWWWWWW!"

Reed's heart actually skipped a beat with the burst of adrenaline at seeing his friend with head nearly in his own lap, shrieking louder and louder, clutching at the bandages as the healer muttered in Zilanthi, her face nearly a reptilian mirror of his for one startling moment as Tucker began to mutter the same thing she did.  
.  
" _Now_ , Reed," she yelled over the screams - oh, more screams, he'd thought they were over for good -"Get an anodyne of your doctor's and do not worry. His eye iss beginning to come alive, I should think..."  
  
Malcolm fairly scrambled over the bed to the living-room medicine cabinet, returning with the drug box. "Which one?"  
  
"The strongesst. Tucker, listen to me," she sat next to her patient and ran both paws over his forehead as Reed slapped the hypospray over the correct vessel in his friend's neck.  
  
"Reed iss giving you something for thiss pain. It's normal. It means the eye iss beginning to work. What do you see?"  
  
"See?" Reed puzzled. Trip’s eyes were still bandaged.  
  
"Shondré! Malcolm! There're lights burstin' on and off! Colors poppin'! Fireworks! I'm seein' lights!" Shondré leaned over and very slowly peeled up the bandage over his damaged eye. Now, tell me, do you ssee anything?"  
  
Malcolm felt a tear slip down each cheek as his friend tracked her moving arm with the one uncovered eye, the one that until thirty seconds ago had been useless.  
  
"There's somethin' there with th' lights, like it's real foggy, can't tell what. Think it's your arm or somethin'. It's like it was always there but I just figured out what to _do!_ But it's there, isn't it? I'm not dreamin' it? Malcolm, it's real, right?"  
  
He reached out and Malcolm found himself in the warmest embrace he could have ever imagined, stronger by the minute and filled with hope. "It's comin' back! Am I gettin' mah eye back? It ain't a dream, huh?" He and Reed were nearly jumping up and down in sheer joy.  
  
"Shondré, what did you do? His eye was useless…"  
  
"What needed to be done. Tucker's healthy and useful new nervess could not work because his adult's brain had forgotten how to process the signals. I merely showed it how." She returned her attention to Tucker.  
  
"Understand, you may never get more vision than thiss - I have no way of knowing how well the gap can be bridged in an adult despite the health of the new tissue. But the eye iss structurally sound, and with thiss much vision alone, there may be something your Starfleet can do for you by the time you possibly leave uss.  
  
"I must tell you, though, I could not have shown Reed's human brain anything. Tucker, perhapss because of the pregnancy, perhaps because of some inherent difference to Reed which I cannot detect having met so few humans in my life, there iss something in you which calls out to be spoken to. This truly musst be addressed when you are stronger."  
  
"Anything," he replied and took her paw with his damaged hand. "Malcolm, look!" The fingers wiggled in the air, not quite possessing the full range of motion they might one day with diligent therapy, but more purposefully and much, much faster than before. "Another miracle."  
  
Reed leaned into the waiting arms and found himself in a determined embrace that touched his deepest heart far more than he could have dreamed less than a week ago. Before he realized what was happening, he was kissing Tucker, lips pressed tightly to that sweetest of mouths forgetting that just a scant year and a half ago, this would have been the least desired place to be. Forgetting, for now, the trials he had faced and escaped from on Clinarin II. Nothing mattered anywhere near as much as before, the Captain's bed denied, or the career and former universe lost. Those bright eyes shining at him when they came up for air gleamed with all the promise in this or any other world.  
  
Not a poor substitute for those of a man who in all probability had never given his Armory Officer one thought more than absolutely necessary. These eyes, one part of a man with the courage to survive and the love to keep reaching out against the odds. These eyes were an avatar of good times shared and fires braved together, signposts to the warm and happy future which could be his if he but dared reach for it as he had reached for Trip not two minutes before.  
  
Malcolm Reed would never be lonely again with these particular eyes in his personal universe.  
  
~FIN~

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy this work, please leave kudos or a comment to let the author know.


End file.
